A solemn guard of honor composed of Imperial Knights, carrying flags of various colors, rode through the streets in pairs, leaving the curious citizens on the sidelines in awe.
Each banner represented a territory under the Emperor's rule, the lowest of which held the rank of Marquis. To read through all of the Emperor's titles in a single string would likely take several minutes. Once the knights had passed, a carriage drawn by four magnificent steeds rolled slowly by, eliciting gasps of wonder wherever it went.
Peeking through a corner of the curtains, Christopher took in the scene of jubilation.
"Father, your relationship with the Imperial cities is truly amicable."
"What you see outside is merely a little trick by the Augsburg City Council—the handiwork of the Welser family. Just take it for what it's worth."
Laszlo did not believe for a moment that the citizens of Augsburg felt any true sorrow at his departure. At most, it was the merchants lamenting the sight of a "fat sheep" slipping away.
He turned his gaze toward the Archbishop of Mainz, who sat opposite him and his son. The Imperial Chancellor was busy reviewing the structure of the Imperial government with the help of the royal advisor, Matthias, preparing to carve out a new, streamlined version of the Imperial Privy Council and the Imperial Treasury from the existing foundations.
The latter, having been maintained by the Nuremberg municipal government, would likely not suffer a major shock, but the Imperial tax system was due for a total reconstruction. Seeing the old Chancellor's forehead beaded with sweat, Laszlo could not help but sigh. "Adolf, do you think we've spent ten years walking a detour?"
"Whether it was a detour or not, I cannot say. But the massive problem you've tossed to me is very real," Adolf replied. "If we cannot establish a uniform tax code across the entire Empire, and your taxpayers are scattered across every Circle, the old system—which relied on the Circle mechanisms to raise funds—will no longer work. We have to tear it all down and start over."
Archbishop Adolf lamented his misfortune in his heart. He had originally fought tooth and nail for the seat of the Archbishop of Mainz just to make some money and enjoy the prestige. Now, he had become the hardest-working "second-in-command" under the Emperor. Had he known this day would come, he never would have taken a loan from the Imperial Bank to campaign for the position.
"Look on the bright side: the new system we build will undoubtedly be more stable than the old one," Laszlo tried to comfort him, though it was ineffective. "And the old system isn't completely useless; we just need to modify it slightly."
The Archbishop shook his head. "Your Majesty, are you not at all worried about the issue of multiple jurisdictions?"
"Multiple jurisdictions... indeed, there were such disputes when we collected the Common Tax. Many Imperial Estates enjoy privileges over the same piece of land, leading to no shortage of disputes over taxing rights."
"Previously, everyone agreed—voluntarily or otherwise—to the Imperial levies. Auditing was just a matter of comparing the status of ranks and the source of privileges. But now, the sovereign right brought by unilaterally taxing a piece of land will surely trigger countless land disputes within the Empire. When that happens..."
The Archbishop did not finish, but his grim expression spoke volumes about the gravity of the situation.
"What if we use this opportunity to help our supporters expand their local governance?"
"That would lead the Empire into total chaos and the abyss of war." The Archbishop stared at the Emperor in horror, trying to determine if Laszlo was joking.
In this era, judicial and taxing rights were the two most important manifestations of sovereignty—a hallmark of the Imperial feudal system. In many Imperial territories, a single area might be home to peasants who belonged to multiple Imperial Estates and judicial districts simultaneously. In the cities, landed nobles and clergy often lived side-by-side.
For land subject to multiple ranks, whoever taxed the people effectively held the higher sovereignty. Eventually, land taxed by a certain rank could be viewed as their territory protected by Imperial law. In cities, nobles and clergy often refused to pay municipal taxes because doing so was equivalent to acknowledging the city's rule—a loss of status in the eyes of many.
These blurred boundaries seemed trivial, but they were vital to every Imperial Estate. No one was willing to surrender their sovereignty, and everyone sought to prevent their rivals from gaining more. Previously, Laszlo had used a tiered levy system to maintain a local balance of power, ensuring the smooth operation of the whole.
However, with that balance broken, the Estates aligned with him would almost certainly seize the chance to expand their jurisdiction, while the excluded princes and Estates would not sit idly by. Once a dispute arose, they might take it to court, but given the Emperor's clear bias, those without protection would likely bypass the courts and resort to armed conflict.
After all, the Emperor might not remember everyone who paid the Common Tax, but he certainly had a deep impression of those who didn't. By the time an arbitration file reached the Emperor's desk, the verdict would be predictable. This meant that if the ambition of either side grew too large, regional conflict was inevitable and would become the norm across the Empire until a new order was established.
"Then we shall try to restrain the Estates willing to pay the Common Tax. We will continue to collect based on the previously compiled *Register of Imperial Estates* and cancel the plans for tax hikes to prevent reckless behavior."
Laszlo hesitated for only a moment before adjusting his strategy. To him, the southern base of the Empire remaining stable was not a problem; the key lay in the potential conflicts in the Central and Northern regions. If things truly fell into chaos, even deploying the entire Imperial army wouldn't be enough to cover every corner. In such times, using checks and balances between local princes could save him a lot of trouble. He would have plenty of time later to clean up the disobedient ones.
"If that is the case, the annual tax revenue we can collect risks being cut in half. Maintaining the Imperial government might..."
"You only need to ensure the Imperial Privy Council retains at least one representative from each Circle. The remaining members should all be replaced by princes and Estate representatives willing to undertake Imperial obligations. As for the local offices across the Empire, we can downsize them appropriately. I will handle the Imperial Chamber Court. Once we get through the toughest period, things will improve."
Laszlo's promise was effective. Archbishop Adolf settled down, choosing to believe the Emperor could resolve the crisis he had ignited. However, the authority of the Imperial Diet had plummeted to an all-time low due to the blow dealt by the Emperor himself. Whether the corresponding Imperial Circle system could continue to function remained a major question.
Yet, on second thought, the Archbishop realized things weren't as bad as he imagined. The Rhenish Electorates he controlled had collectively sided with the Emperor, as had Westphalia, Bavaria, Austria, and Bohemia. The situations in the Upper Rhine and Burgundy were complex but generally under control. The three ecclesiastical Electors could exert a positive influence on the western Empire, with the most notable wildcards being the King of Burgundy and the Count Palatine, who were both waiting for the highest bidder.
The situation in Franconia, Upper Saxony, and Lower Saxony was more severe. In Lower Saxony, many Estates had sided with the Emperor due to the Dithmarschen affair and the threat of the Danish King, while the secular princes of that Circle stood in opposition. The Emperor would have to rely on the support of the Hanseatic League; otherwise, he might receive no taxes from Lower Saxony at all.
In Franconia, the Bishops of Bamberg and Würzburg had sided with the Emperor, and the Nuremberg City Council was managing the Imperial Treasury on behalf of the Privy Council. The Hohenzollern family's attitude remained ambiguous, leaving room for a potential turnaround. In Upper Saxony, the opposition's stronghold, the Duke of Pomerania remained loyal to the Emperor and maintained close ties with the Teutonic Order, while most other princes were wary of the Emperor's growing power.
The two leading princes of the Swabian Circle had left the Emperor's inner circle, but they were geographically constrained and could never truly escape the influence of the House of Habsburg. If the Emperor were to appoint an Austrian proxy governor to control Swabia based on Habsburg lands, those two Dukes would be in danger.
However, the Emperor had not yet revoked the appointment of the Duke of Baden as Governor. He even accepted the Duke's invitation, taking the Imperial Court to Baden for the hot springs. He invited King Charles of Burgundy—who was in a dispute with the Duke of Baden over Lorraine—to join the trip, intending to resolve the Lorraine issue along the way.
Yet, events took an unexpected turn. Shortly after the Emperor, his son, the Duke of Baden, and the King of Burgundy left Augsburg together, a messenger from Burgundy arrived with bombshell news.
"Fighting has broken out in Lorraine?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. The Burgundian camp near Nancy was ambushed. It is said the Lorraine forces are led by the Count of Vaudémont, who has betrayed the Empire."
"Wait a moment. I recall Nancy is the capital of Lorraine," Laszlo interrupted, turning his gaze toward an excited-looking Charles. "What is a Burgundian camp doing there?"
"Your Majesty, the Duke of Lorraine died suddenly without a will, and the Duchy fell into chaos," Charles replied, his ability to lie with a straight face becoming more impressive by the day. "I merely dispatched a small force at the invitation of the Lorraine nobility to maintain order and protect the security of the Duchy."
"Are you telling a joke? How could the people of Lorraine invite the Burgundian army—with whom they have fought for decades—to maintain order?" the Duke of Baden sneered, puncturing Charles's lie.
Charles glared at the Duke, ignoring the interruption, and turned back to the Emperor. "Your Majesty, my troops have suffered great losses in the fight against this Imperial traitor. Therefore, I implore you to allow me to march into Lorraine to sweep away the rebels and avenge my fallen soldiers."
"You just want to seize Lorraine for yourself! Your Majesty, I can also organize an army to confront the traitor who has sided with the French King!" the Duke of Baden countered.
Charles glanced at the Duke with disdain. He felt these Imperial princes were failing to weigh their own worth. Once across the Rhine, even the Emperor had to give him some ground; a mere Duke of Baden had no business shouting here. Had the Emperor not been watching, Charles would have started his ridiculing long ago. If the Duke of Baden truly dared to lead an army into Lorraine, Charles would show these Imperial "weaklings" exactly what the new Burgundian army was capable of.
"Charles, if you eat too much, aren't you afraid of indigestion?" Laszlo said somberly.
"Your Majesty, your past experiences have been an inspiration to me," Charles said, with a rare hint of genuine emotion. "The Hungarians, the Swiss—these fierce barbarians were all brought to heel by you. If I use the same methods to maintain my rule, I naturally expect no great issues."
The Emperor's measures to strengthen power and his approach to building a new army had indeed inspired Charles. In a sense, their thinking was very similar. Through the States-General, the Great Council of Mechelen, and his new army, Charles had established a reliable "reign of terror" in the Low Countries. Back then, the Emperor had fought from Pressburg to Transylvania, cutting through all of Hungary until heads rolled, which secured nearly a decade of stability. Rather than a crude imitation, Charles preferred to see this as a spiritual resonance between himself and the Emperor.
However, the Emperor's stalling and hesitation regarding Lorraine displeased him.
"I recall a large part of your army is still in Guelders maintaining the situation?" Laszlo noted.
"The remaining troops are more than enough to handle the Lorraine rebels."
"The matter of the Count of Vaudémont is secondary," Laszlo said. "The key is the ownership of Lorraine. In principle, I support Duke Karl inheriting the title and lands of Lorraine, and then performing an act of fealty to the King of Burgundy as Duke of Lorraine, while revoking Lorraine and Bar's seats in the Imperial Diet."
The Emperor threw out a proposal that appeared to balance the scales, but both interested parties were dissatisfied. The Duke of Baden did not want the Imperial seats revoked, nor did he want to become a Burgundian vassal. Meanwhile, Charles believed he should hold the title of Duke of Lorraine himself, even though he had no legal basis for inheritance.
"Since both of you are dissatisfied with my proposal, give me and the Imperial Court some time to explore a solution that satisfies all parties. Until then, we must first organize an army to suppress the rebels occupying Lorraine."
Laszlo scanned the room. Both Charles and the Duke of Baden looked eager. Clearly, whoever took Nancy first would have the best chance at the title.
"Christopher," Laszlo said, turning to his son, who had been a mere bystander. "I am placing you in full charge of reclaiming Lorraine and punishing the Imperial traitor, René, Count of Vaudémont. The Imperial Privy Council will deliver the authorization documents and the Imperial Ban against the Count to you shortly."
Christopher, surprised, pointed at himself. Sensing the burning gazes of the two disputing parties, he felt a bit apprehensive. However, he summoned his courage and accepted his father's appointment. Though he didn't know how this would end, there was a clear enemy in sight—it was best to deal with them first.